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Funonzi, Chapter 1: The First Chapter
Once upon a time, there was a magical land called Fairytopia. This land was, somewhat ironically, home to thousands of elves, and no fairies had ever lived there at any point in time. The land was rich with culture, and the elf population was widely regarded as one of the most welcoming groups of people the Funonziverses had ever seen. So it was really a shame when Fairytopia was overrun by elf-eating goblins who choked out all life in the region and turned Fairytopia into a barren, elf-blood riddled wasteland. The elves and the goblins had been enemies for centuries. Having come from the north, the elves had constantly been on the move due to the range of the goblins’ sense of smell. They eventually sought refuge on a large plateaued mountain and founded their great city. But the goblin threat did not just go away overnight. The city was constantly bombarded by the goblins, and the elves had assembled a strong army to defend the city. Many elf lives were lost, but as a result of the army’s creation, many elves were protected from the bloodthirsty goblins. It wasn’t until about three years before our story takes place that the elves received a very powerful gift from the heavens. On a hot tuesday afternoon, a group of elves were playing Who Can Drown The Fastest in the community pool when a golden lance fell from the sky and skewered one of the swimmers. The elves brought the lance to their mayor, Giggles, not knowing what it was. Giggles brought it to his palace and eventually noticed that there was a button on the side of it. Out of curiosity, he pressed the button, which created a massive forcefield around the city. This forcefield served as a deterrent for the goblins and allowed the elves to live without fear of being attacked. The lance was placed in a special room in the palace and was named “the Plunker”, because it could be used to plunk other people (the word plunk is an elvish word that can be used to describe stabbing, piercing, or hitting with any kind of force). For three years the Plunker protected the city of Fairytopia. Unfortunately, however, it was soon stolen by an unknown assailant, allowing the goblins to attack the city with great vigor. Since the army no longer existed (as it had not been needed during the age of the Plunker), the elves were defenseless and were eaten alive. But not all of them. A group of four elves were among the very few survivors of the invasion and had been living in the wilderness ever since then. These elves were named Pippy, Ena, Elmer, and Ascal. The four of them shared a strong bond, as they had spent their entire lives living together. They were all orphans, and the only kinship they had ever known was their ragtag band of elves. Pippy was generally regarded as the leader of the group, but each of the four had an equal say in the group’s decisions. This democratic system was remarkably unique for elves, as most elf-clans tended toward theocratic or sometimes fascist principles, which had been at the root of elf politics for centuries. The group was residing in the Gastichyan Highlands, a tall mountain range that stretched across the entire northwest part of the continent. They had been searching for a city to live in for years, but elves were commonly known for their lack of navigational skills, and these four were terribly lost. “Are you sure we’re heading south?” asked Ascal, the jock of the group. Pippy looked at his compass, only to realize that it was actually a slice of bologna. He did not want to mention this fact, since it would be embarrassing. “Yes, south.” “Then why is it getting colder?” Pippy did not answer this, since he did not know about the science of climate. Before he could make up a dumb answer, he noticed something in the distance. “Look! Over there!” The elves turned their tiny heads toward where Pippy was pointing. Alas, an eerie looking fortress stood atop one of the peaks of Mount Gast, which was very close to them. The fortress did not look manmade, but almost as if it were carved by nature itself. However, it shared similar traits to several manmade structures, which made it all the more peculiar. “It looks almost thousands of years old.” “I’m gonna check it out!” yelled Pippy. The group feared for Pippy’s safety, but they were confident in Pippy’s ability to make sound decisions and to climb tall mountains, even though he had never done either in all his life. Pippy bolted toward the fortress and, after a few minutes of climbing, reached what appeared to be a doorway. “Do you see anything?” asked Elmer, the ladies man of the group. Pippy was awfully curious, so he peeked his head inside one of the windows. In an instant, he saw a bright flash of colorful light resonate from inside the castle, and before he could see where the light came from, it faded to black. Pippy backed away from the window, obviously unsettled by what had just occurred. He gulped and, in a moment of stupidity, decided to knock on the door. However, as he went to knock, he slipped on a banana peel and fell off the cliff he had climbed, dying instantly upon impact. The elves ran to his body crying, but they would not mourn for long, as they would all be torn to shreds by a herd of elk two hours later. --- Many miles south and across the desert was the city of Baragoon, which housed the notable Baragoonian Church. The church was known as St. Francisco’s, named after the great Baragoonian hero who slayed the mighty beast Valkyrie that attacked Baragoon a little over a year ago. The church acted as a secondary governing body to the territory of Baragoon, and its clergy worked closely with the king, acting as advisors. But what the church was better known for was its promotion of the Baragoonian faith. This religion worshipped a god simply referred to as “God”. God was, undoubtedly, difficult to get along with. He lived in a large castle in Baragoon and very rarely talked with anyone. While the Baragoonians’ previous god, Funonzi, had been an active member of the Baragoonian community during his tenure, God lived constantly in reclusion. Every time the council attempted to act as advisors to him, he would simply nod when in reality, he wasn’t listening at all. He would always complain about how his castle wasn’t as nice as Francisco’s, which was a valid point, since Francisco’s was made of solid gold. There was always something that seemed to be distracting or bothering God, and no one ever knew what it was. As mentioned earlier but quickly glossed over, the church had originally worshipped a god named “Funonzi”, whose name was given to the planet and to the universe as a whole. But the Baragoonians were later told that they had got it all wrong and that God was the real God. Even though they changed the god they worshipped, they thought it would be hard to explain changing the name of the planet a second time, so they decided to keep the name “Funonzi”. The man who had convinced the church that God was the real god was a mysterious man named Jones. When Jones first arrived at the church, he brought God with him. “Ladies and gentlemen,” said Jones. “I regret to inform you that you’ve got it all wrong. Funonzi isn’t god. This guy is.” God waved nervously. One of the clergy stood up, angered. “You speak blasphemy on church grounds! Have you no shame?” Jones turned to God and said, “Show him what you can do.” God nodded and, with the flick of his fingers, sent the clergyman flying into the air. As God moved his hand around, the man flew in the same direction. Pepe, the high priest of the church and son of King Antwon, eventually chimed in. “That’s enough!” God dropped the clergyman and smiled. Jones patted him on the head. Jones then said, “Funonzi, as it turns out, was scamming you all. He simply showed you some magic tricks and you immediately started worshipping him. But this guy is the real deal. I mean, come on! Even his name is God.” The Council thought about this. Could it be? Could they have been wrong all this time? Ultimately, the decision would fall on Pepe, so the clergy waited for his response. Pepe was examining the mysterious man who called himself Jones. Jones was a tall man who wore all black, and his hat obscured the view of his eyes. After a few moments, Pepe turned to the clergy and said reluctantly, “Looks like we were wrong.” The Baragoonian Church would immediately attempt to right their wrong and began worshipping God. The Baragoonian community was divided over this issue, but most people trusted that the church knew what they were doing. “I know this has been a confusing time for everyone,” said Pepe as he spoke to the congregation during a church service. “But we ask that you place your faith in us, as well as God.” Several amens were muttered. “And we also ask that you place your faith in our new appointees.” Pepe gestured for nine individuals sitting in the front pew to stand in front of the church. Their names were Horace Dunn, Dan Scott, Ned the Red, Dude “The Dude” Porcupine, Patrick Dade, Valerie Conners, Dudrick Nelson, Duh Ramiro, and Guillermo Kane; these nine would soon join the church’s sacred council of advisors. Pepe continued, “It is with great pride that I welcome these nine individuals into the sacred Baragoonian council. May they lead long and prosperous lives devoted to protecting our sacred land of Baragoon, much like the great Francisco did before us, and forever remaining faithful to Fu-- ahem... to God.” As the congregation applauded, several of the members looked at the vacant seat that was reserved for Francisco, wondering what he was up to. It was unknown to all of them that Francisco was in the Alamo Ridge for mysterious purposes. He was walking down the road that connected Baragoon to Timea and came across a door that was disguised in the side of the stone edifice. He pushed it open and, upon walking inside, revealed a laboratory with a man inside. “Francisco, I wasn’t expecting you so late,” said the man. “It’s an urgent matter, Morgano. It’s about the warnings.” Morgano took off his goggles, revealing his charcoal-like pupils. “Have you been receiving more?” “Quite frequently. The same ones I received before Valkyrie attacked. Look.” Francisco pulled out a golden lance and revealed that it was flashing with brilliant light. Morgano eyed it curiously. Francisco continued: “But that’s not why I came here, Morgano. I’ve finished compiling the power levels of every citizen of Funonzi, and I’ve determined who our prime candidate should be. I trust your machines are tuned and ready to be used.” “Everything is calibrated to normal. Who is the candidate?” Francisco hesitated. “He was off the charts. Leagues above everyone below him.” “Who is it?” Morgano repeated. “I warn you, it won’t be easy…” Back in Baragoon, nine new Council appointees walked down the aisle and through the main doors outside, where it had just begun to storm. They all headed back to their homes and Dude and Duh, who were roommates, walked together down the sidewalk. They hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella, and Dude and Duh were drenched. “Was Francisco at the ceremony?” asked Duh. “I didn’t see him. No one’s heard from him in a few days. He’s probably off saving the world again.” Duh laughed. “Yeah, he probably is.” The two stopped walking and stood deep in thought. Dude looked at Duh and said softly, “It feels weird, doesn’t it?” Duh nodded and smiled. “Never thought the day would come. I’m sure no one in this town would’ve ever thought that Dude and Duh would be members of the Council. Did you see the look on their faces?” Dude looked at Duh with a smile on his face and said warmly, “Duh, I don’t know how I could have done all this without you. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother, and I’m glad I have you in my life.” Duh blushed. He was obviously moved by Dude’s comment, but he was moved even more when a bolt of lightning came down from the clouds and struck Dude, launching Duh across the street in a daze. After a few moments, Duh came to his senses and realized what had just happened. “Dude!” he shouted. Duh lifted himself up from the ground, dazed and throbbing with pain. “I’m all right!” he shouted. “Oh, thank God. I thought you--” Another bolt of lightning struck Dude, this one disintegrating him. Duh witnessed the whole thing and ran across the street toward the pile of ash that had once been his closest friend, but before he could reach the other side, he was hit by a bus. --- The city of Glenhold was a humble place, located in a valley off the coast of the appropriately named Glenhold Bay. A raging river ran from high up in the Gastichyan Highlands, through the valley and into the bay, where it was flanked by pointed cliffs that were a bit too tall for diving, but too short to entice tourists to come visit. To the south, a great forest stretched for miles, with trees that were beautifully tall and lush, but not quite as tall and lush as the trees of the Wilds or the Mighty Forest. Glenhold Bay itself, which was certainly beautiful enough to be on a postage stamp or desktop wallpaper, was not quite so picturesque that it could secure a spot in the highly prestigious Beautiful Bays Annual Calendar. Venturing through this moderately scenic landscape were two men, who were riding camelback through a mountain pass just outside the city. On the back of one these camels behind its rider was a corpse wrapped up in cloth. The riders trotted past the local burger joint, which was on fire, and were heading toward the downtown sector, where they were meeting their employer. The two camels they rode were tall and strong, and if you stared at them for too long, they would start hissing at you. “There it is. The great city of Glenhold.” “I was expecting something… bigger.” “Well, sorry to disappoint you, lad.” The second man unfolded his map, tracing their path with worry. The first man smiled. “What are you so worried about? The job is done, we’ve got the body, and the boss is meeting us in Glenhold.” “I know, I know. But don’t you think people are gonna get suspicious seeing someone carrying a dead body through Glenhold?” “Boss said we’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it.” The anxious camel rider looked back over his shoulder. “Are you sure we’ve lost them?” “Look around you. There’s no place for them to hide. If I were to guess, they probably gave up down the road.” The second man laughed in relief. The two men walked down Salami Street, drawing many glances their way. But despite all this attention, no one approached them. After a few minutes of travel, the men arrived at Greg’s Burger Joint, a relatively unpopular burger joint. “How you boys doing?” asked Greg, the owner of the establishment and sole employee as the two camel riders entered, carrying the body with them. “Just fine. Hope you don’t mind us parking our camels outside.” “Course not. What can I get you boys started with?” As the second man was about to make an order, the first man jumped in, saying, “We’re not here to eat, unfortunately. We’re meeting someone.” Greg frowned, but then took a few steps back when he realized the two were carrying a body. “I was told you’d be coming here. Didn’t realize who you boys were until just now.” “We’re not boys, Gregory.” The second man butted in, “I’m actually pretty hungry. Can I get whatever your signature burger is?” Greg’s eyes lit up with delight. “You got it!” he said, and he darted back into the kitchen. The first man looked at the second with an annoyed look in his eyes. Just as he was about to make a comment, he froze. “You hear that?” he asked. The second man shook his head. In an instant, several ninjas appeared out of thin air and attacked the two men. The riders lept into action themselves, using their martial arts training to counter the assault, but they were cornered. The camel riders knew that the ninjas were after the body. One of the ninjas began to laugh, but then stopped himself, because ninjas aren’t supposed to laugh. Just when all hope seemed lost, the two camels burst through the window and launched a devastating surprise attack against the fifteen ninjas, who were appropriately named “The Fifteen Ninjas”. The camels, unbeknownst to the ninjas or pretty much anyone on the planet, had the ability to shoot machine gun rounds out of their mouths. The ninjas, feeling threatened, teleported away. However, one of the ninjas, Eleanor Cissor, channeled her teleportation incorrectly and was left behind, where she swiftly fell victim to the ravenous camels. The first rider looked around and sighed. “Teleportation. I should have known.” “Good thing our camels are trained for combat.” “Yeah, if we didn’t have them, we’d have been toast.” He was right. One of the ninjas, Monty, had the ability to turn people into toast. When Greg finally finished making the second rider’s burger, he entered the dining area and saw that his windows had been shattered. “What in the hell happened here?” he shouted. “Nothing. We’ll be leaving now.” “You can’t just come in here and destroy my property like this! I’m gonna call the police!” “No you won’t.” Once the first rider said this, he pulled out his pistol and shot Greg in the head. Greg fell to the ground and dropped the burger, but the second rider luckily caught it just as it was about to his the ground. He then took a bite of the burger and immediately spit it out. “Not good?” “Fucking awful.” The two riders walked out of the restaurant and hopped back on their camels. The first rider’s phone began to ring and, after seeing who was calling, picked up. “Jones,” said the rider, “we need to find a new place to meet. The ninjas attacked us.” “That’s alright. I’m sending you a GPS location. Travel there and bury the body.” “Understood.” And with that, the camel riders rode north. As the camelback riders lamented over the quality of Glenholdian burgers, specifically those made by the now-deceased Gregory Burger, disorder grew in the Gastichyan Highlands. The Fifteen (now fourteen) Ninjas who had just attacked the aforementioned camel riders a moment ago were the pupils of a mysterious man named Dojo, who the camel riders had recently killed. One of the more experienced ninjas, Ramona Torres, had assumed leadership of the group after Dojo’s death, and had fervently launched a campaign of vengeance. But alas, she had just been humiliated by the two mighty camels and retreated to her quarters as soon as she and the ninjas arrived back at the dojo. It is worth noting that Ramona possessed a very unique and sought-after ability. She could bring almost anyone back from the dead. This was a very valuable asset for the Ninjas (not quite as valuable as being able to bring back literally anyone from the dead, but still valuable nonetheless), but their enemies quickly learned about this and made a point to hide anyone that they had slain. This was why the camel riders were carrying Dojo’s body with them on camelback. The other ninjas did their best to console her. “There’s nothing we could do, Mona. They were too powerful.” “Yeah, Mona. You know, we’re no match for camels!” “I can make you some toast if you’d like.” Ramona mustered the courage to say a few words, and turned toward her fellow ninjas. “My brothers and sisters,” she said. “How thankful I am to have you all on my side.” She paused. “I know you all want these two camel riders dead as much as I do, but it appears that we are no match for them. They have taken our master from us, as well as our beloved sister, Eleanor. If I could find either of their bodies, then I could resurrect them for sure. However, these camel riders have made it very difficult for us. Perhaps a new course of action is in order.” “What do you suggest?” asked Prosciutto, the jokester ninja. At that moment, Ramona had an idea. A rather clever idea. One that would shake up the entire world of Funonzi as she knew it. She grinned. --- Antwon Silverback walked along the upstairs hallway with the brand new carpet, admiring it as he approached his son Pepe’s room. He knocked on the door. “Get up, Pepe! I’m making pancakes!” Antwon was known for his pancakes, and was considered by many to be the best breakfast chef of all time (a title that was envied by many). However, pancakes were just a hobby to him, and in his free time he had decided to pursue his true passion and had become the king of Baragoon. Antwon was the eldest son of Sylvrin the Sage, the first king of Baragoon. Sylvrin’s family, referred to as “Silverbacks”, were special due to their various magical abilities and possessed the gift of immortality, assuming no one killed any of them. This fate unfortunately befell the old king Sylvrin many years before as one of his own relatives, a man named Frank, accidentally transformed the king into a potato. Frank was banished from Baragoon and forced into exile in the Alamo Mountains, while Antwon was given the choice to inherit his father’s throne. Although Antwon was adamant about becoming a breakfast chef at the time, he knew he owed it to the Baragoonians to lead them. And so he did. Antwon never had kids of his own, due to the fact that he could not reproduce. Not to say that he was infertile, but he just physically could not do it. He had tried on many occasions, but to no avail. Most of Baragoon was baffled at the king’s ineptitude when it came to reproduction, but no one dared confront him on the issue, nor try to give him any kind of advice. No one wanted to insult the king. But Antwon did have an adopted son: Pepe. Pepe was was practically blood, since he had lived with Antwon his whole life. While Antwon was walking home one night after buying the entire stock of maple syrup from BuyMart, he found Pepe, who was just ten years old at the time, lying in a comically large stroller on the sidewalk. Antwon decided to take him home and raise him as his own, successfully instilling an heir to the family line. Antwon always knew that Pepe was a special boy, but as he grew older, he began to realize the true power that Pepe possessed. He had kept all of this a secret from Pepe and had told him his whole life that he was his real son. Pepe had lived his life unaware of his origins or how special he truly was. Antwon, after knocking a few more times, opened the door and gasped in horror. The window to Pepe’s room was broken, and Pepe was nowhere to be found. It appeared that there had been a struggle. Antwon quickly grabbed his phone and called Grant Goldfront, the commander of the Baragoonian armies. “Yes, sir?” asked Goldfront. “Rally up the troops, General. I think Pepe’s been kidnapped!” “Who do you think did it, sir?” Antwon took off his glasses. “I have no God damn idea.”